


The five-oh, oh, oh

by omgbubblesomg, troubleseeker



Series: Invisible Archangel [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bottom Dean, Bottom Gabriel, Established Relationship, Gabriel/Everyone - Freeform, Handcuffs, Impala Sex, Implied Castiel/Dean Winchester, Implied Castiel/Gabriel, Invisible sex, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Public Sex, Top Gabriel, Top Sam, Voyeurism, the authors regret nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-18 22:37:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11884299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omgbubblesomg/pseuds/omgbubblesomg, https://archiveofourown.org/users/troubleseeker/pseuds/troubleseeker
Summary: Sam gets pulled over by a traffic cop while Dean and Gabe fuck in the seat next to him. Somehow this ends with two Winchesters walking home in handcuffs.





	The five-oh, oh, oh

**Author's Note:**

> I ended the last fic with, "Well there's nothing more I can do here," and [troubleseeker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/troubleseeker/pseuds/troubleseeker) was like... no but what if there's a traffic cop...  
> And we basically wrote an entire fic in the comments section.  
> [So here we are](https://68.media.tumblr.com/a266083c31e7a39762cf6cec5e766ff4/tumblr_inline_ostpd3i8HE1utis89_540.gif).
> 
> We all probably need to re-evaluate our life choices.
> 
> Also if this is your first time in this series, let me just sum up the sitch: Invisible Gabe likes to show up and fuck one of the boys _through_ their clothes. To the amusement of no one (except Gabe, presumably).

 

Sam was desperately trying to keep his eyes on the road. Dean was not making it easy. Half-choked noises ripping from his throat like Gabe was fucking his mouth, not his ass.

“Sam, _Sam,_ get us the fuck home!”

Sam did not look to the right. He did not stare at his brother’s flushed face. He did not take his eyes off the road. He did not press the pedal down too hard. Nuh uh. He was being a diligent, conscientious driver and the fact that a porno was going on next to him had absolutely zero sway over him. None at all. Even if the aforementioned porno was between his brother and an archangel, both of whom were his boyfriends. One of whom was invisible.

Dean grabbed the dashboard as though his whole body was electrified and Sam _was not getting distracted._

He was so un-distracted that it took him a solid ten seconds to realise that there were flashing lights behind him.

Dean gave no outward sign that he realised they were being pulled over. In fact the only outward sign he gave to indicate that he was even alive was to clutch at the air behind his head and say something that sounded suspiciously like “Nyeea _aarrrrgh!_ ”

“Uh oh, Sammy,” said a voice somewhere to Sam’s right. “Looks like you’re about to feel the long arm of the law.”

“Gee,” Sam snarked back, searching for his wallet which had fallen on the seat and was somewhere between Dean’s trembling legs. “I sure wish there was someone around who could get us out of this mess.”

“Do the crime, pay the fine, sweetheart.”

Sam didn’t get the opportunity to respond to that because the cop had pulled in behind them and was swaggering to Sam’s open window and _of course_ their detective badges were back home. Only regular fakes in the car. At least they were in a mostly-deserted area, so there wouldn’t be too many nosy neighbours peeking at them from any windows.

“Licence and registration.”

Sam handed them over. _Jeremy Triggs._ He tried to smile like he imagined someone called Jeremy would smile.

The cop was pig-faced with little beady eyes. He blinked down at the fake licence.

“You know how fast you was goin’?”

“Um…”

“70 in a 65 area.”

“Right,” said Sam. That wasn’t so bad. If he could apologise carefully they would probably get out of a fine.

The cop was staring waterily at Dean. “S’wrong with him?”

“Uh,” said Sam. Dean’s face was not the colour a normal face should be. And it was becoming less normal as Sam watched. He wished he had taken the time to put a jacket over Dean’s lap because if the pig-faced cop leaned into the car then it was going to become very obvious that Dean wasn’t paying particular attention to the very serious business of getting pulled over. “He’s uh—”

“Horny!” crowed Gabriel’s voice.

“Wha’d you say?” The pig faced cop squinted his eyes at Sam.

“Drunk!” said Sam brightly.

“Drunk?”

“Uh… yes?”

“On a Wednesday?”

“Mmh-hmm.”

“At 2pm?”

Sam winced. “Yes?” he hedged.

Pause.

“Get outta the vehicle.”

_Fuck._

“You too, Alehouse. Get yer ass out here.”

_Double fuck._

“Little help here?” Sam whispered at the place he was pretty sure Gabriel was occupying.

“You’d look good as a copper, Sammy,” was the only reply he got.

“Hands on the hood,” Pig-Face ordered. “Botha you.”

They complied and oh my _God._ There was no way this was happening. The guns were all hidden in the trunk but if the cop decided to root around in the Impala he was sure to find something incriminating.

“ _Gabe!_ ”

“Strike me dead, your brother is _tight._ When were you last in here, Sammy?”

Sam groaned. He knew exactly how tight his brother was. “L-last week,” he started to stammer.

“Wha’d you say?” Pig-Face was getting fed up with them already.

“N-nothing, Sir.”

“Nothin’ more outta you, hear me?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“So polite,” Gabe chuckled darkly, whispering from somewhere behind Dean’s head. “I love it when you say _Sir._ ”

Heat pooled dangerously low. Sam and Dean were facing the Impala, bent over to get their hands on the hood. Dean was a _mess,_ and Sam was pretty sure the only reason he was still somewhat upright was that Gabriel’s dick was keeping him so.

Pig-Face opened the front door at the exact moment that Gabe shoved forward, making the whole car rock as Dean bounced off the hood.

“ _Fuck,_ ” someone swore. Probably Dean.

“Tha’s it,” the cop grunted. The familiar sound of handcuffs jangling and then Pig-Face was shoving Sam down against the hot metal of the Impala.

Sam could _hear_ Gabe hissing, like watching Sam get manhandled by a cop was the hottest thing. Dean’s eyes looked glazed as well and that wasn’t _fair._ This was _humiliating._ Sam could knock this guy flat in a second but he just had to let him clumsily grab at his arm, yank it up until Sam had to go on his toes to ease the strain.

“Oh, _yes,_ ” Gabe groaned, and Dean gave a full body shudder, eyes rolling back in his head and spine arching forward. Sam knew that look. Something wet and warm was filling Dean up.

Cold metal went around his wrist followed by a very solid-sounding _kaChink._

_Bloody fucking hell._

Dean collapsed onto the Impala, and Sam always knew that Dean had a kink for his Baby, but now was not the time to be indulging it. Now was _definitely not the time_ to be humping a car while a cop approached with a pair of handcuffs.

“Fucken queers,” Pig-Face sneered, slapping the cuffs on Dean’s wrists with almost zero resistance. Dean was made of jelly.

“Excuse me,” said Gabriel. Loudly. Sam turned to look and… and _there he was._ He was standing _right there._ Sam had to blink a few times but, nope, that was the archangel in all his 3D, visible glory.

“Whadda you want?” Pig-Face sneered at him.

“Oh, nothing,” said Gabe. “Just don’t you think it’s odd to use queer as an insult given all the times you’ve sucked your Sergeant’s cock?”

“What’re you—”

Gabe snapped his fingers and the cop went bleary-eyed.

Well, _more_ bleary-eyed, anyway.

“Tha’s just what I thought,” he slurred, and then staggered into the bushes, heading more-or-less in the direction of his car.

“Is he going to be alright?” Sam asked, concerned about whatever Gabe had just done to his brain.

Gabe didn’t look concerned _in the slightest._ Not that Sam would have any idea what concern even looked like on his boyfriend’s face. You know, what with the _never getting to see his face_ thing.

“I wouldn’t worry about him,” the archangel said airily. “Personally, I would be much more worried about _you._ ”

“Gabe, don’t you _dare_ —” But it was too late. With a jaunty smile Gabriel simply ceased to exist and Sam was left staring at the empty road.

Dean was drooling on Baby’s hood, shoving his hips into the bumper bar, and they were both still very much handcuffed.

How did this keep happening.

Sam used his knee to nudge Dean towards the open passenger door. He had to turn around to hold it open, since his hands were cuffed behind him. Dean didn’t so much _get in_ to the car as _collapse_ into the car. Sam squeezed in after him, pulling the door awkwardly shut as he went.

“Sam, _Sammy,_ he… he did it again.”

“I know, I know,” Sam muttered distractedly. “He always shows up at the worst times.”

“No, _no, Sammy,_ Sam, _look,_ he fucking, _look what he fucking_ —”

Oh. Dean was talking about the tent in his pants. Obviously overlooked.

“Gabe, you inconsiderate bastard.”

“Come on, Sam, help me out.”

“ _Public road,_ ” Sam hissed, as Dean tried to thrust his hips towards Sam in the confines of the car. “Where are your lockpicks?”

“Bag,” Dean grunted. He was wriggling a leg up, trying to get a knee high enough to rub himself through his pants.

Sam closed his eyes. If his hand had been free he would have pinched the bridge of his nose. “You mean to say,” he said calmly, “that your lockpicks are in your duffel,” pause, “the duffel which is currently in our motel room?”

“Oh, fuck,” Dean wheezed.

“Cas?” they tried simultaneously.

No response.

Sam’s arms were already getting sore where they were stuck behind him. “Right,” he said, “okay, we just have to walk, it’s still early, no one’s gonna see us.”

“Sam, _I cannot walk around like this._ ”

“Jesus, Dean, get a grip, it’s just a pair of handcuffs. Your sleeves will cover them anywa—”

“No, Sam, this, _this._ ” He wriggled his hips again.

“What, and how am I supposed to… oh.”

“Just, get over here, will you?”

“Dean, _public road,_ remember? Anyone could drive past.”

Dean groaned like that was an actual turn on and… no. Just no. “We cannot have two of you in the family,” Sam muttered. But of course he leaned down anyway to mouth at the hard shape in Dean’s pants. Dean actually _yelped_ when Sam dug his teeth in, just a bit.

“Come on, come on, Sam, make me, _make me._ ”

Dean’s pants were stretched so tight that getting the button undone would have been difficult even if Sam had his hands free. As it was, it took a lot of wriggling, yanking, and Dean making unapologetically pornographic sounds, before Sam managed to get the button loose, so he could pull the zipper down with his teeth.

Dean’s dick _immediately_ sprang up, as if it was a magnet and Sam’s mouth was the North fucking Pole. Sam nosed Dean’s underwear further down, but didn’t have the leverage to shove it under Dean’s balls, where he would have liked it. They heard an approaching car at the same time, and they both leaped up, turning to face the other direction as if they were admiring the view. Dean’s dick was still out and Sam watched as it jerked. _Dean liked this._ A drop of precome beaded at the tip and when the car sped past Sam couldn’t get his mouth down fast enough. Get a taste. Dean bucked up into him, already so close, and Sam wanted it further. Down his throat. He swallowed, swallowed. His throat tried to rebel but he swallowed again and got his nose into Dean’s skin, shoving forward as far as he could go.

Dean might have screamed. And yeah, this was a little fast for either of them but Sam didn’t have a hand free to help the cause, so he was making up for it by getting as much of Dean into his body as feasibly possible.

It took an embarrassingly short time and Sam would have liked to rib Dean about it, but heat was pooling in his own belly and he didn’t want to get stuck here, swapping blow jobs by the side of the road.

“Come on,” he muttered. He turned around to get his hands on Dean’s fly, trying to close it backwards and blind, with not an ounce of help from his brother, who was still breathing through his high.

Watching Dean walk dazedly home did absolutely nothing to help the chub in Sam’s pants. Nor did the glimpse of metal at Dean’s wrists. Or the way his face scrunched up as they crossed the street.

“I can feel it leaking,” Dean complained. “His jizz is getting all sticky.”

Sam steadfastly refused to think about that, or the fact that they were walking home in handcuffs. Or the way he could still taste Dean on his tongue. He promised himself he would be calm, cool and collected until they reached the motel.

His dick made no such promises, and very much enjoyed itself, rubbing on the inside of Sam’s jeans with every excruciating step and pointing his gaze to Dean’s ass, where Dean was no doubt still open and wet beneath the layers of clothes.

“Cas,” Sam prayed. “Could really use some help right about now.”

Still no response.

By the time they got to the motel Sam’s jeans had turned into a vice and his wrists were starting to ache from all the yanking he had been doing at them, failing to get a hand to his crotch to relieve some of the strain.

Cas met them at the motel room door.

“Where the fuck have you been,” Sam hissed.

Cas nodded at him gravely. “Ducks have corkscrew penises,” he said, as though it was the single most important sentence to ever be imparted.

Oh. Okay. That explained why he hadn’t answered their prayers. “For fuck’s sake, Gabe,” Sam muttered at the air. “You know Cas gets weird when you overdo it.”

They managed to get the door open and Sam had to pause on the threshold because _Guess who was in the room._

“You bastard,” Sam snarled. He ran the few steps forward and Gabriel _didn’t disappear_ so when Sam barrelled into him Gabriel just let himself get pushed down onto the nearest bed. Sam straddled him immediately.

“Good to see you, too, Sammy,” Gabe purred. Sam heard rather than saw as Cas and Dean collapsed onto the other bed together.

“Good to see you _at all,_ jerk.” Sam pushed his hips down. “Clothes,” he ordered. Gabriel complied with a grin and they were both suddenly naked, though he noted that Gabe hadn’t bothered to remove the handcuffs. Didn’t matter. Sam didn’t need his hands anyway. He used his knees to push Gabe’s legs wider.

“Hey now, sweetheart, what made you think I’d be catching—”

“ _Shut the hell up_ is what I was thinking,” Sam snapped, and he manoeuvred their hips together, lining up and rocking against Gabe’s entrance. Dean made a distinctly turned-on sound and Sam left Cas to deal with that, because he had much more pressing issues.

“Oh sweetheart, so much _authority._ ” Gabe was smirking up at Sam. “You gonna make me call you Sir?”

“ _Enough,_ Gabe.” Sam pressed down harder. Neither of them was prepared or lubed but that was just one of the benefits of having an archangel for a boyfriend, because the next time Sam pushed forward his dick caught on Gabe’s hole and he pressed in.

“I’m gonna get you a cop uniform,” Gabe stage-whispered, as Sam bottomed out.

Sam made it his duty to wipe the smirk off his boyfriend’s face completely.

 

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
